


What to Do?

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [32]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-14
Updated: 2004-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 23:58:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1798066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many possibilities for Labor Day weekend...</p>
            </blockquote>





	What to Do?

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For Alex, my friend and beta.

A daydreaming Quinn twirled his pen absently as he sat waiting for office hours to end on Friday. He pondered the upcoming Labor Day weekend, and how to best spend the vacation.

He and Ian could go to the shore, but Quinn knew it wouldn't compare with a certain St. Thomas beach, where they'd been a thousand miles away from any familiar face. The ocean had become a playground for them, despite the presence of other bathers. Ian and Quinn had been completely unselfconscious while swimming and snorkelling, their reticence dissolving in the aquamarine water. The ease with which they'd sprawled beside each other on the yielding sand seemed unimaginable this close to home.

Blankets on the local coastline would be set only feet apart, reminiscent of the bumper-to-bumper traffic they'd brave to get there. Parking a mile away, settling on hot sand a hundred feet from the grey water's edge. Every word overheard, mixed with the discordant sound of countless radios and the scent of secondhand sunscreen. Over-processed food washed down with over-sugared drinks. Nothing could be less appetizing.

The two of them could go hiking, but he and the Prentice men had been exploring the area bikepaths almost every Saturday since Father's Day. For some reason, Quinn had usually ended up paired with Keith during these rambles. Having Ian to himself would make for a better time.

The trails gave Ian and Quinn a freedom that they seldom had outside the confines of their apartments. They could hold hands, share kisses -- be the couple they were -- while walking, their only spectators an occasional robin or hare.

They'd hiked for miles without seeing another person, the pressure of society become more apparent with its sudden release. Ian had even suggested taking advantage of their privacy in ways better suited to their bedroom, in Quinn's view.

His lad was forever tempting him. Ian was by nature more open and gregarious than he was; the constraints Quinn had set upon their relationship from the start must have chafed at Ian's sunny core. Yet he always accepted Quinn's limits without complaint, though he wasn't averse to trying a bit of persuasion now and then.

At least on the trails, these attempts were innocuous, the flutter of wings or the scamper of paws the only sign of an audience. Their wild spectators were treated to many a wilder embrace, made more so by the rarity of their isolation.

Cycling offered another good way to explore the area. He and Ian had ridden roughly 25 miles up the Malastachian Trail so far, but if they started on Saturday morning, they could easily do twice that by Sunday afternoon. There were some campgrounds out by Danton that Quinn was itching to explore.

Camping had benefits for two men in their situation, as well. No one batted an eye at a couple of guys together in the wilderness. Even sleeping in the same tent was regarded as roughing it, and the men themselves as sportsmen. There'd be enough moss between tents to ensure that joining the two sleeping bags would go unnoticed as well.

Ian could probably be persuaded that giving up the comfort of their bed was a small price to pay for quality time which didn't require explanation. Quinn would certainly make it worth his while.

There was also a street fair in Landowe that weekend. He'd seen banners advertising open-air dining provided by area restaurants, and a crafts and folk festival. Quinn knew that Ian liked his music live, and the two of them would blend in nicely with the crowds.

The university had its own activities on tap. The Luke Skyhawks were playing football against the Vaderbilt Maulers at home on Saturday; as in gymnastics, Vaderbilt was Luke's archrival, their distinctive red and black jerseys usually signalling the start of an epic battle. However, the Skyhawks refused to be intimidated by the warpaint under the players' eyes and covering their fans' faces. Quinn rather thought that after missing some previous skirmishes, Ian would come running to be there.

Quinn enjoyed seeing his lover in Luke's school colors of cream and brown, his eyes lingering over the warm earth tones, which complemented Ian's warmer gaze so well. He'd given Ian t-shirts and sweats with the hawk insignia early on to celebrate his hiring.

There were also electronic deals to be had on this holiday weekend, what with all the back-to-school discounts. Quinn had his eye on one of the new miniature digital cameras, perfect for taking photos of Ian.

Quinn enjoyed shopping with Ian, especially for books and music. Ian had a knack for finding an obscure text in a sleepy used bookstore, and collected vinyl disks. He loved the original album art, as well as the extras sometimes found, like posters or designs on the record.

Well, Ian probably had his own ideas of how to spend the holiday.

Quinn grinned when Ian came in the door, stopping by Quinn's desk to show him the contents of his shopping bag: tea, cinnamon oatmeal, maple syrup, and apple butter. A burrowing breakfast, typical of their cocooning weekends. Quinn had his answer, clear but unspoken, save in the language he and Ian alone knew.

Quinn locked eyes with Ian, a slow smile gracing his lips as he realized that the Labor Day weekend would be infinitely better than his imaginings.


End file.
